A Turian Called Horse
by Boreal Peat
Summary: Shepard's memory might be enough to fall in love with. When all Garrus has are memories, daydreams, and the occasional cheesy movie, he finds he'd rather make due with that than pretend this isn't the galaxy she died to protect.
1. Tombstone

Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor do I have anything to do with the franchise or BioWare. There are sexual themes with xenophilia in this story and some violence and profanity.

* * *

><p>There are crates stacked everywhere, acting as cover for enemy and ally alike. Where are the allies, at the moment? Knowing the commander, most likely circling around to flank. Garrus rolls out and takes a shot at the drone he'd known to be hovering behind the wall, and he bursts through looking for more to take down. More gunfire erupts from his right, and he slams a shoulder past the next corner, taking a breath before he will take his chance in taking out the next one. Bullets rain everywhere, the smell of battle, the feel of adrenaline-achieved alertness... This is what Garrus needs right now. Spirits, this is satisfying.<p>

There is a blast from a thrown grenade, and Garrus lurches forward again, switching out his sniper rifle for assault. He finds himself barreling through a column of flaming smoke—thankfully without any issue outside of a fizzle in his shields—and slams through a door, following his leader. The sooty smoke has bleared his eyes and muffled his ears for a short moment. He coughs a bit when he hears the door slide behind him, secure in the knowledge that the enemy hasn't followed, and allows himself to double over a moment to breathe in fresh air.

And how fresh it is! He opens his eyes to the bright sights and smells of Palaven... the garden just outside of his childhood home. The light of the sun rains down clear white light that glistens easily on the dew of the tall grasses and ferns surrounding him.

Instead of questioning it, Garrus gives a huff, and remembers his favorite basking rock should be near. It has been a while since he last relaxed. Not that he hasn't had the chance... but it's been so hard to sit still. From here, the rock should be just past the jewel fruit tree, to the left of the large green canopy... Yes, right there it is. A large, grey boulder of igneous rock, its pleasing, organic shape sloped towards the afternoon sun it soaks in, with enough expanse for a full-grown turian to sprawl upon.

And a very nude Commander Shepard was already sprawled on it.

Garrus had seen naked humans before. You see almost everything working in C-Sec, and that included breaking up some public indecency or a few illegal prostitution calls for nearly every species that has any sort of representation on the Citadel. Hell, humans could be the most creative about the _flavor_ of how they were naked together. But the armor-clad Shepard... that's a little different.

Still, he wants to bask, and the rock was certainly big enough to share. He hurriedly pulls off his armor as Shepard napped, breathing languidly like he wasn't even there. And he hopes she stays that way until he finally makes it to her. And she does. His plates glinting in the sunlight, he approaches and look down at his commander's exposed form.

_She's human. She shouldn't be exposed to Palaven's sun like this. It could damage her._

Ever the thoughtful soldier, he blocks his commander's body with the shadow of his own. Her eyes flutter open at the intrusion of space, but a smile spreads across her face and her cool hand comes up to stroke his fringe. He shivers and presses his body into hers. Soft, warm, cool... spirits, the sensations of it all. He nibbles at her shoulder and she writhes up into his hips.

As her hands move, fingers dance. More fingers than he can think about. They dance between and over his plates, they massage the softer areas, they spider-walk across his shifting lower plates and make him buck a little bit. He's purring and growling her name in response, licking deep into the column of her neck, her exposed clavicle... anywhere. She tastes a lot like the stone she lays upon, he thinks. Like hard minerals despite the tenderness of her flesh.

Her strong, smooth legs fit in around his waist and he's inside her, biting and licking and feasting while he fucks her, the hot sun-soaked rock below them deliciously scorching his thighs as he loses himself in the inviting softness. The sounds she makes fly past his ears like a song, and then she mutters things to him in that low, smoky voice. Sexy things. Forbidden things. Secrets of the universe. Secrets from beyond the grave.

_Wait. Shepard is dead._

* * *

><p>Garrus woke up abruptly in his Citadel apartment, thighs against the hard warmth of the heating unit by his bed, and half-burrowed in shredded bedding, soaked with more of his fluids than he'd care to admit.<p>

One generous clean-up and a trip to the trash disposal later, Garrus found himself facing the fact he had just had a wet dream about his dead human commander. He hadn't even had one cause him to orgasm like that since... before boot camp? He took in the scent of the room, and breathed out with disappointment. With the fresh scent of cleaning products and the stale scent of mechanics that pervaded the entire Citadel, it didn't smell like Palaven, or a battlefield, and certainly didn't smell like Shepard. His shoulders felt cool despite the high heat he kept his room.

Implications aside, he really did wish he could just go back to sleep and submerge back into the world of that dream. It had been two months since he saw Shepard or any real action, a full month since she died. Spectre training wasn't nearly as satisfying as any of that, and the political games that the council played was making him lose more and more hope that he even could even make a difference as a Spectre.

What would happen when he finishes up and he still can't stop the Reapers?

He pulled on his clothing and armor to get ready for another day of—likely useless—training. What else could he do? The dream world wasn't real, and even ignoring that, he was now far too awake to try to fall asleep again.

Residue feelings of the dream hung over him through the whole morning. When they broke about midday, instead of taking his lunch there, he took himself to an entirely separate ward and found a bar. Two months hadn't entirely fixed up the Citadel, yet, and he was just about as likely now to trip over a traffic-clogging Keeper as anything else, but it didn't take the citizens two days to set up working bars and clubs, again. C-Sec didn't even have the time to regroup and charge them for operating without licenses.

No skin off his nose, because he wasn't C-Sec anymore and, right now, he needed a drink.

He had drained three tall glasses and was wondering about the time over his fourth when he heard someone calling his name. The voice seemed familiar but he couldn't place it, and when he turned to find who it was, he found a human with a face that he had very much the same trouble with. A serious-looking man, somewhat scruffy in presentation, leaned heavily on crutches.

Oh! _Crutches!_ "Joker?"

"Well, if it isn't my _favorite_ former crew-mate," Joker said sarcastically, but the note lacked any real humor. Though it had only been two months since they really spoke, he somehow struck Garrus as looking much older than he remembered. A smirk quirked half-heartedly on Joker's lips and he took it upon himself to set down his crutches and sit beside Garrus. "...You're in Spectre training, right?"

"Right. I'm a little surprised to see you, Joker. I didn't recognize you for a second." Which was odd, because he really didn't look any different from before. No extra or fewer lines, maybe more beard and hair. "I'm surprised you're here and not glued to the chair of a new ship."

Joker's brows furrowed, but a more natural-looking grin split his face. "Yeah, well, the Alliance seems to have better uses for my talents. Like, you know, letting them rot ground-side."

"They grounded you? Why the hell would they do that?"

"They cited health and mental wellness reasons." Joker caught his falling grin with a drink from the shot that was poured for him. He hadn't even stopped to order it, a testament to exactly how much time he'd been spending at this particular establishment. "But, really, it's because they can't have the pilot of the ship that went down with the great Commander Shepard be all _active_ and _willing_ to tell people that it wasn't the geth that attacked us when the Council is far too happy to say otherwise."

"It wasn't the geth?" No one told him anything about that, even at the funeral. He just had official reports to go on. "Spirits, Joker, what the hell happened?"

"It took me by surprise, too. We saw the ship approaching... a huge spiraling behemoth, nothing _I'd_ ever seen. _Whatever_ it was, it wasn't the geth. It didn't fly like the geth. It didn't send the same signals as the geth. And it spotted us despite that stealth systems were still active and operational. The geth never found us like that before."

"If it wasn't the geth... someone else with the Reapers? Maybe they have more armaments to their disposal than we know?"

"Hell if I know. Doesn't make any difference, anyway." He slammed back another shot and spared a glance at the bartender as if to tell they weren't coming fast enough. "No one'd listen if I did, and the commander would still be _dead_."

"If you're grounded, where's everyone else?" Garrus might not have heard the whole story before, but he did know from the funeral that Joker was the last one to see Shepard, and he knew how that part of the story ended. Maybe changing topics would keep some of the survivor guilt from pressing on Joker, at least as far as this conversation. "I heard Wrex went back to Tuchanka, and Tali returned to the Flotilla, but I didn't hear anything about the Alliance crew."

"Chakwas is on Mars right now. She's served a long career and the Alliance decided to reward her by giving her the cushy job she deserves. Kaidan has been doing... _good_. Whether or not he wants to admit it. Ash's been getting more honors _dead_ than she was ever going to get _alive_. Liara hung around the funeral arrangements and generally acted like Liara, then just sort of vanished with some other asari."

"Shepard's death hit her pretty hard."

"She sure was sweet on the commander. Dunno why, since the commander wasn't exactly _nice_ to her."

"The commander wasn't really that nice to anyone," Garrus responded automatically.

"Nah, she was just curt to most people, but she was outright _mean_ to Liara." He glanced over at Garrus, another quirk of a smile. "I should know. I kept spying on them."

"I'm sure that's a serious breach of protocol," was Garrus' somewhat flippant response.

"Yeah, well, Liara kept coming on to her, and those two together'd be pretty hot, y'know? I just wanted to have a glance at it. Nothing wrong with that."

"_Riiight_." Garrus took another drink and shook his head in humor. Joker, on the other hand, hadn't turned away.

"If the commander was interested in anyone, it was you."

Garrus nearly choked, and a strange feeling like he'd been caught doing something that he wasn't supposed to washed over him. He jerked to the left and looked at Joker incredulously.

"Well, it's true," he continued, "You were her favorite. All the missions she took you on..."

"She didn't take me on any more missions than anyone else. She kept a very fluid team rotation. You know that."

"Yeah, sure, but you came with her on the big ones. Including taking down Saren, I _hasten_ to add. You had to have noticed."

Of course Garrus noticed. He was actually very proud that she'd favored him over so many of the others, even more so because, in the beginning, Shepard didn't seem to be very fond of Garrus' romanticized view of Spectrehood versus C-Sec. Her placed trust in him was proof that he was reliable. "That couldn't mean anything other than business."

"But you didn't see her face when, oh..." Joker scrunched up his face in thought. "Uhhh, when you said..."

"I said...?"

"I was going to call up the commander about something and you stopped her a second to thank her. Yeah, that's it! You said something like 'I wanted to thank you,' and she blew you off 'cause she was busy and I had just commed her to update her on something. You acted all pitiful about it, and—"

"I did _not_ act _pitiful_." Garrus bristled. He remembered that incident, and he felt a little violated that someone was watching because the commander's behavior did strike him off guard for a short, vulnerable moment. But, not a minute after, she—

"When she heard you respond like that, she got this _look_ on her face. Like she had just accidentally kicked a two-legged puppy. It was so rare I even had a still shot of it saved on my main terminal in the _Normandy_. She made me finish my report quick and hurried back to hear what you had to say and soothe your _bruised_ _turian ego_."

This was the worst time to hear this. Lingering feelings from the night before still hung over him, and it gave Garrus sweet prickles of pain as he breathed and tried to keep his heart rate low. His talons quirked with want of something to do and he shifted uncomfortably. He clawed through his mind for something to respond with before Joker dragged him further into this line of conversation. He wasn't fast enough.

"And it was so _mutual_ it was _hilarious_," Joker chuckled and sloshed a new drink about in the little glass it came in. "Because she was the only person on the ship you'd even talk to and not be all 'we turians would do this _differently_ because we're _better_'. You were on such a high-horse to everyone else and passing judgment of a proper cop or soldier or whatever. We have a word for your type among humans..._ 'stick up your ass'_." Garrus opened his mouth to retort, but Joker didn't let him get the chance. "But if the _commander_ said something, _hoo boy_. If she _disagreed_, you'd shut up, swallow your pride, and make it a point to _agree with her instead_. Like some big pet parrot."

"I _am_ a turian, and she was my _commanding officer_," Garrus countered. The argument sounded weak to his own ears.

"_Sure_."

"I didn't agree with her about not saving the previous council."

"Funny how it still happened and you were _right there to stop her_."

Garrus swallowed hard, remembering how the anger with her decision bled away so quickly when Saren's corpse attacked. He wanted to run back to that time, watch her pull herself out of the wreckage again, and embrace her like it would fix _everything_. He peered into his drink shamefully.

By the spirits, just how messed up was he? "I should go."

"See?" Joker snorted, as if that was the first joke he'd heard in months. "Back to Spectre training you go. Don't embarrass her name too much when you get out of there."

Garrus swiped out his tab and sped out of there.

* * *

><p>He trudged through one more month of the training before he reached his limit of bullshit. The gradually rebuilding Citadel and everything about his daily life was constantly throwing one thing into his face: <em>Shepard is dead<em>. The Alliance honored her as a martyr, and frankly couldn't be happier than to have such a great symbol that had the grace and decency to be dead so she won't do anything like publicly embarrass them with her actions. Which she would have, if the trouble the memorial on Torfan stirred up with people was anything to go on.

None of Joker's words would settle well with him. The geth didn't kill Shepard, but no one was going to go out of their way to prove that. Garrus didn't even know where to start, and from what his current superiors where saying, his first duty after obtaining his status would involve _chasing the geth_. And he'd be under another Spectre through the beginning, a turian who didn't care to question the official story. By the time Garrus would be able to stake out on his own as a Spectre, it might be too late.

It didn't seem worth it. Too much heartache for no progress. He wasn't even able to the stop random acts of violence he'd seen every day at the Citadel. The one time he got involved, both C-Sec and his trainers severely reprimanded him for acting with a title he hadn't yet "earned". So, he left for the Terminus Systems.

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd find there. Lawlessness, maybe. Most probably he ran in that direction because that's where Shepard fell. He didn't really have confidence he could find her killers, or her body, or any clues, but it was better than sitting in the Citadel, waiting for the chance _to wait for the chance_ to do something.

Omega seemed a good a place as any to start, and somehow, he ended up settling there.

While digging and prying and generally trying to find any information from the bottom up, his nature kept him from being inactive otherwise. He already knew a lot of the problems smuggled into the Citadel had Omega connections to blame for them, connections he could do jack shit about due to jurisdiction problems. And he wasn't half-bad about getting the job done. He followed Shepard's example as a soldier and soon found himself with his own comparable team of loyal specialists.

And his new team brought with them interesting new ideas, too. Garrus hardly knew a batarian before, and though Vortash wasn't the friendliest of people, he had a quality about him that reminded him of Wrex and had him reconsidering an entire race all over again. The humans brought with them some of the culture that he'd not fully gotten to know about with his work on the Citadel and the _Normandy._

Even the turians he worked with were different, reminding him more of people he served along side in ships than anyone from Palaven or his cop comrades. Sensat, for instance, got along a little better with asari than he did turian women, and even ended up being the one to make Garrus sit down and actually watch _Fleet and Flotilla _from beginning to end. He got some elbow-jabs for that, because the romantic scenes between the lead couple of different races actually struck him a little too close to home, and when the turian lost his quarian lover to a blown airlock during a space battle, well... he _tried_ to excuse himself from the room, damnit!

Butler gave him the most shit about it, since the married man loved to bring in old human movies (which were all romances in addition to their other genres) and Garrus had been denouncing them as silly and unrealistic. But, he got back at him by having a showing of _Talons_ and laughing all the way through.

Butler bit back, though, and it started the squad's Great Culture War. Garrus and Sensat fumed when Butler brought in _Guess Who's Coming to Dinner_, Mierin cried for days after _Dark Goddess_, _Ruck Humpers_ actually made more than the krogan laugh, and everyone bawled their eyes out at _Saving Private Ryan. _All the while, different music would be blasted, never mind the various magazines and games lying around to anger and/or gross out each other. Garrus found a _Fornax_ under his pillow more than once, and sometimes they were _specialty issues_.

It took its toll. By the time they got past the overture of _Molt_, they had already formed a treaty and opted to leave each other alone. It wasn't even a big deal to Garrus that one of his favorite pieces to play during a firefight was from the _Fleet and Flotilla_ soundtrack, where the turian hero brought down hellish vengeance on his lover's murderers.

Yeah, he'd admit it if you _asked_ him, that it played on his visor because it made him think of Shepard.

During the whole awkwardness of the Great Culture War, Garrus didn't stress himself to figure out the intricacies of human courtship, nor did he indulge even a little in the _Fornax_ copies for their human/turian couples. It wasn't because he had some personal issue to overcome with Shepard being human, or even that she was his commander. But she was _dead_, and other than her, he wasn't interested in any human in the galaxy. Just how ridiculous would it be if he read up on the material and plotted his every move to Shepard? And unhealthy. People just don't come back from the dead for you to woo.

That didn't stop him from daydreaming every once in a while, but cross-species intercourse, honestly, didn't really enter his mind. Except for that one fantasy he had of raiding an Eclipse operation, then de-helmetting the _supposedly_ asari leader to reveal a supposedly-dead Spectre and... _well_... he had to _interrogate_ his prisoner, didn't he? But the central theme to that was the same as so many of his other, less naughty fantasies: Shepard coming back. All the other ones were about being on the _Normandy_ with her, doing little things as mates like eating together or washing each other, though there were no grand "confession" fantasies. He dreamt of being there when he otherwise wasn't, to save her from getting spaced. Or just, occasionally, letting himself get lost in a memory of fighting along side her.

And that's why he played "Fire in the Courtyard" so often during battle. It might seem a little reclusive to sometimes pretend that Shepard was there with him, just around the next bit of cover while she tries to flank the enemy, but he couldn't see any harm in it. More often than not, he'd order one of his men to do just that, and it made his own shots that much cleaner. Hell, it did wonders for his morale.

* * *

><p>Garrus was close to his men, but that little reminder of Shepard and the Reapers was what kept him from getting as close them as he could have by the end of two years. This might have been the fatal flaw; he didn't even see Sidonis' betrayal until it was too late. When he found himself on the run and down to the wall of an apartment at his back, he actually kept himself from indulging in the fantasy of Shepard fighting along side him, getting him out of this mess. This was <em>his<em> mess; he was alone, it was his fault, and he was going to have to own up to that.

He peered down his scope again to see more cannon fodder jogging up towards him, and one face made him blink furiously and his mandibles twitch with such violence they banged like a stereo metronome on the inside of his helmet.

Daydreaming was one thing, but he'd never _hallucinated_ before.


	2. Specifics: Fleet and Flotilla

Disclaimer: Same as chapter one.

I got to thinking, and it seemed like it might be a little fun to be a little more descriptive of some of the events detailed in the first chapter. Because, hey, why not? Especially since many of my wonderful readers want more, and I'm more than happy to provide. This one's short, but should be followed very soon by another.

* * *

><p>"So, you never saw <em>Fleet and Flotilla<em>?"

"Only bits and pieces."

"_Really._"

Garrus slung his sniper rifle around to rest on his back and turned his head towards Sensat so that the younger turian could feel the glare despite the helmet. "We just get out of a firefight with some Blue Suns and you want to criticize what vids I may or may not waste my down-time on?"

"Nooooo, no, sir. Nothing like that," Sensat's flanged tone remained friendly and chipper, knowing that the acted annoyance was just that. "I mean, it was such a big deal. I mean, it won awards. I thought, you know, it might be up your alley. You've served with other races a lot. There were quarians on the last ship you were on, right?"

"There was _one_ quarian, and I wasn't exactly interested in getting into her suit."

"It's not _just_ romance. It's mostly battle scenes and war drama."

Mierin bounced up beside them. "What are you two conversing about, hmm?"

"_Fleet and Flotilla._ Garrus here hasn't seen it."

The asari gave her leader a high-pushed brow look of surprise. "_Really._"

"Haven't exactly had time in my _busy schedule_," Garrus quipped sarcastically.

"We will have to rectify that." Mierin smiled one of her mysterious smiles and grabbed both of them by the talons.

Garrus withheld a groan as Sensat took this cue to announce, "Hey! Looks like like we're watchin' a vid tonight!"

Butler pulled himself from a message his wife left him and looked up with interest. "What? I thought I was the only one to call watch for vids."

"Our _Archangel_ hasn't seen_ Fleet and Flotilla_." Sensat informed with a shit-eating grin splitting his mandibles wide.

"_Really_."

"Is everyone going to react like that?" Garrus groused with mild humor, though the attention was beginning to feel more uncomfortable than it should.

"Well, Boss, it just seems like one of those quarians on your last ship would have..."

"There was _one quarian_. And what exactly are you accusing me of?"

* * *

><p>The war drama of the movie was easy enough for Garrus to get into and appreciate. In fact, he found himself becoming a little grateful that he was prodded into seeing it; most of the vids he was wrangled into watching he had little patience for, some sort of romantic-comedy or unrealistic action flick. In comparison, this was a breath of fresh air. The lead female role, being played by a known quarian actress more attributed to a quirky, comedic parts, didn't remind him one bit of Tali. The turian lead he'd seen in some other things, but he couldn't place what. Their relationship began as many typical film romances, anger and resentment, forced camaraderie brought about by extreme situations, and building stress that was, of course, actually sexual tension. Well, sure, that shit happens, but that's not exactly something you build a relationship off of. It was a plot point he merely decided to not pay any attention to.<p>

Well, that's how he thought it was going to go.

The movie blindsided him buy hitting a little closer than he expected, even in that department. The quarian girl was having difficulty firing a gun she'd not been trained to use in the Flotilla, so her turian "friend", of course, had to help her.

"_And here I thought quarians were able to download this straight into their suits and have it do all the work for them." _The statement would have come off as racist in the first half of the movie, but it was clear now that this was a playful jab.

"_Well, we aren't war-minded turians with your oh-so-wonderful eyesight to help us see the targets."_

"_It has nothing to do with eyesight with that gun. You're just holding it wrong. Here."_

Cue in the cliché scene of the guy helping the girl out by holding her arms in place for her. Garrus would have just let his mind wonder off if it weren't for what their lines following.

"_Keelah, that was... satisfying."_

"_Remember that feeling."_

_That's how it should be._

Garrus felt his heart stop cold with that line, and a strange, nostalgic feeling bitterly fell over him. He could clearly see the large, disbelieving eyes of Dr. Saleon shortly befor they finished him off, and feel Shepard's body heat by his side as he told her "That's him". It was absolutely accidental—there was no way the writers could predict someone in their audience could have exchanged those very same words—but it felled him in one swift blow, regardless. So much so that, as the turian reluctantly pulled away on screen, he felt instantly awkward and had to look away.

His eyes scanned over his men, like he was afraid they may have seen the temporary falter in his resolve. They hadn't, eyes all still towards the glowing screen. Hell, Sensat was doing a low purr with Mierin in their own corner, obviously enjoying the movie together. A scene change flashed different hues of light across the room and brought his eyes forward, again.

That feeling didn't let him go, either, damnit. From that point on, every scene struck a chord with him. It didn't feel like your typical cheesy screen romance anymore. It felt like he was living through something he had and lost and it hurt like a bitch. Some strange part of him clawed protectively at the feeling preciously, despite the pain and embarrassment. His own breathing picked up, he could feel his heart hammering and the cords in his neck and throat tighten subtly.

The war drama itself continued magnanimously. The battles were well choreographed, the tensions between ranks and cooperative forces were very realistic, and the acting and dialogue were actually pretty damn good. The overall narrative didn't get buried under a socio-political message or any director vs. producer vision, and instead balanced well between elements. Maybe a little too well, because it allowed him to get more and more into the story.

The turian protagonist had to return to his place in the fleet for another precision strike against the batarians, and when the whole quarian ship his lover captained flickered and went to the red auxiliary lights, Garrus knew what was coming up. It was so obvious, since they were coming near to the end. Garrus tried to stand and excuse himself, but Monteague peevishly knocked him behind the knee and hissed at him to sit down.

"No, seriously, I have to—"

"Shh!"

"But I—"

"Quiet!"

He sat in defeat, lest he ruin the mood and get any more attention on him as a result, but felt dread tearing at him miserably, eating him from the inside out as he watched the bulkheads buckle, pressure bursts from hydraulic systems, steam from the quick cooling of the interior as the ship lost its ability to protect its inner hull from the vacuum...

And then the airlock blew. She was there one minute, and gone the next. The transition to the next scene had the turian's voice speaking with sarcastic disbelief that cracked in his larynges like they were made of paper. _"What? A casualty? Your kidding, right?"_

_You expect me to believe that? An ancient behemoth fell on her and she brushed it off just a month ago._

Garrus broke down, right there in the dark room with his squad. Eleven soldiers who looked up to him as a leader, and here he was, sobbing his heart out. He could even feel the high-pitched whine scratching through his upper throat, but every time he tried to squelch it, he heaved another heavy sob. The turian on the screen was left alone with the news, still in the midst of a working ship of moving turian soldiers, part of a universe that owed nothing to his plight.

He felt a hand rub his shoulder consolingly. He didn't care to identify whose it was, but he shooed it away, struggling so to keep his crumbling figure up almost as to be obstinate. He hadn't cried for Shepard when it happened, but now he was keening in long howls that had his team completely focused on him instead of the vid until he calmed down. Even then, he was still gulping down breaths of air for a while after.

Everything finally settled down in him with the final battle scene, a strike against the common enemy that had more than a little fuel from revenge. Many shots were devoted to the now-alone turian, who poured his fighting spirit into the battle, shouting orders to have his men work well in tandem with the quarians, who he'd learned well the tactics of from his lost quarian. It was gratifying, and it brought the quickened beat of Garrus's own heart away from the desperate mourning to the adrenaline he associated with firefights and bringing a case to a close. It was a steady, and, frankly, more rewarding rhythm, and he found himself easily imagining himself there instead, killing the faceless killers that the Council had distorted as a continuation of the "geth" threat.

He might not ever find them, but he would be sure to be always ready for them, and that was a vow he made right there as the music rained down on them with the pounding of cinematic explosions. They have yet to have seen the Reapers, after all.

* * *

><p>"<em>Fleet and Flotilla<em>, huh? I guess that came out while I was dead." Shepard said with a grin quirking lop-sided up towards one scarred cheek. She seemed just moments away from letting loose a bout of uneasy laughter from the exchange that they'd just seen in Eternity. Her eyes fell on Garrus. "Does that happen a lot?"

"Movies coming out during death? I'd say they'd _have_ to."

"I meant friendzoning with turians."

He gave a shrug. "Can't say. I don't know that much about... interspecies relationships to make a call."

"Hmm." Her smile grew a little, equaling out on either side. "Have you seen it?"

"_Fleet and Flotilla_? Sure."

"_Really_."

Garrus chuckled despite himself, and Legion behind him let his brow-plates quirk up and down in a show of interest to the conversation. "It's mostly a war drama," he found himself saying, "It's actually pretty good."

"Oooh, one of those veteran tear-jerkers, huh? Well, count me out of seeing it while we're on this mission. God, I made the mistake of seeing an old one from Earth right after Torfan. Couldn't look anyone in the eye for days without misting up."

"I can understand, believe me. My men and I, we had a bit of a... competition between us for a little while. Trying to wash each other out with awkward vids and dirty magazines, I guess."

"Sounds like standard barracks rapport."

"Maybe for you humans. It's a little different in turian ships, though. I'll have to tell you about that sometime later."

"Looking forward to it."


	3. Specifics: Calamity Jane

Disclaimer: Chapter one. Allow me to remind you of that part about _xenophilia_.

You guys (my readers) are really quite awesome people. I'm very grateful for all your praise and support, and love to hear those personal anecdotes of what it means to you! Your words truly mean a lot to me. And sorry that I kept the status as "complete" that last time, when it's obviously not anymore. It had started as a one-shot and now I'm... not entirely sure what it is. Hopefully my stumbling around among words and aliens will still entertain all of you!

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><p>"Shepard," he moaned, reaching up a hand towards her.<p>

She clasped his hand and pulled him up to his feet with one good yank. He rolled his shoulders and nodded to the unspoken question of whether or not the medigel was helping.

"Good," she muttered in response, "Sometimes I get carried away at the flank. You know that."

"Yeah, you almost get _your_ ass knocked down all the time. Whoever thought it'd be a good idea to give you that cloaking device didn't think that you'd use it to pop up _behind_ enemy lines at any given opportunity."

Her resulting scowl was playful. "Hey now. It's a strategy that works. I bet if those mercs had any idea what they were doing, they would have flanked you before you had the chance to bunker up at Omega."

"I'm glad they didn't, otherwise I would have missed this conversation."

That made her chuckle a bit. "You're really casual about this whole thing, you know. I mean, my coming back to life. Most people when they see a dead person walking around don't respond by sitting down for a brief conversation between shots."

"Are you comparing me with Alenko?" He took an appraising look at her. "He was out of line."

"I don't think so. Garrus, I died a martyr, whether I like it or not. For the Alliance, for the Earth, for all humanity... Hell, from the news stories I've heard related to my death, well, if it weren't for no one else fighting against the Reapers, I'd say the galaxy would be better off if I stayed dead."

"Don't say that. I would have had to join you if you didn't come in the nick of time."

"You might have survived."

"Then I'd be lonely. You'd have me live my life being _lonely_, Shepard?"

She bent over with laughter at that one. "Garrus! I'm serious. My point was that Kaidan's response was... a rather logical one. But you had no trouble at all processing that I was alive. Ass getting pulled out of the fire aside, you seemed pretty fine with it. Why?" He took a breath with that question."

"Truth be told? It's easier to conceive you being alive than being dead."

"I'm as mortal as anyone else."

"That's what you say," he gestured with one three-fingered hand towards the battle ground Tali was salvaging parts and busy cataloging what she'd found in her omni-tool. "But I've seen proof, time and time again, that you're anything but 'as mortal as anyone else'. And Cerberus just did a good number in making sure I don't even think you're as mortal as your average mythic creature."

"You say that like you expected me to just pop up mid-battle, alive and well."

"I did."

* * *

><p>"<em>Archangel, we're getting hit pretty hard up front, here." <em>Lantar's voice grated through the audio link, _"Eclipse pouring in on multiple sides by strategic position. I can see you sniping from back there, but we're going to need more frontal assault if we want Butler here to enjoy his wife's cooking with his face on."_

Garrus was already moving. "Got it."

He'd made another shot and was reaching to switch when he saw a dart of movement. It didn't even register to him what it may be; he acted on instinct and rolled into cover, pulling out his assault rifle as soon as his knee hit the floor. Whoever had seen him, they'd clued that he saw them, because they did the same thing.

Garrus stalked towards the east end of the room, then made a sprint with his rifle poised and shooting at his new target, but he saw her take a new corner and throw some shots back at his shields. Aha! This one looks like an asari commando by the body shape and helmet. She was outfitted better than the other Eclipse so far. Did the leader come from a different angle to surprise them? Damn, what a stroke of luck!

They tried after each other again and again, but neither would let the other get a bead on them long enough to do much more than knock out shields. It turned into a complicated dance... between shipping crates and with live ammunition. When Garrus began to wonder why the asari hadn't used any biotics yet when an urgent, hissing voice echoed in his helmet. _"Sidonis to Archangel... where the hell are you?"_

"I got caught up with their leader before I could get there." He made another pass at her and hid again. "Didn't really have time to inform you. How does it look up there?"

"_No injuries yet that a little medigel couldn't fix. You said the leader got back there? How did that happen? He sneak through the ducts or something?"_

"Not sure, but she's good. Focus on your position. If you finish up first, fall back. I'll get to you if I can.

"Copy that."

Garrus felt her sights on his back—right between his shoulder blades—before he heard the shot. What was left of his shields failed again and he felt a slug pierce through his armor. With a groan, he faulted towards one side and attempted to spin to turn his sights on her. Apparently, she didn't expect that reaction, because her shields blinked out and a shell snagged her. He took that as a changed and rushed forward. In seconds, she was pinned beneath him, her pistol released from the impact of the take-down and sliding away on the smooth floor.

A burst of victory radiated through him, but it quickly dampened. Her scent... it didn't seem right. No, it was _familiar_. Did he come across her somewhere else on Omega? His eyes scanned over her. Red blood from the wound. The body shape similar to asari, but less exaggeration and more utilitarian muscle. This was a human woman wearing an asari helmet. Then, the scent... He kept her upper arms pinned with his elbows as he carefully brought his hands up to unlatch the helmet.

Hair slipped down into a curtain as he pulled it away, and a shiver gripped his body hard as he looked into her eyes. "Shepard."

"You recognize me? Who are you?"

He leaned back, still pinning her under his hips but leaving her arms free as he removed his own helmet. She propped herself up a little and watched expectantly until her eyes widened with recognition. "Garrus?"

"Shepard... Care to explain why you're alive and heading a merc branch on Omega?"

"Care to let me up, first?"

"I'm not so sure I should yet. Convince me."

She smiled, and before he could adapt, her own strong hips thrust up and twisted, effectively dislodging him. He scrambled to retake his position, and though his long arms easily trapped her wrists again, her body writhed beneath him and wouldn't stay pinned. He tried to pull her into a lock, but she would respond by hooking a leg behind his. If he tried to use his weight, she slid nimbly away and over until he would trip her up with a spur or just one of his long legs.

As the wrestling continued, Shepard changed the terms a bit. With a twist, one of her wrists worked free. Before he could capture it again, her hand shot down and over, and with the next roll, he could feel the back piece of his armor dislodge and slide away. Other portions fell away, either by the movement of the fight or by he purposely letting it fall away between them as to not dig into his plates. Torso now uncovered save his bodysuit, he could now feel every twitch and press of Shepard's body against him.

Then her legs wrapped around his waist as she sought purchase. He groaned. "Shepard..."

She squeezed her thighs and tried to dislodge his position from over her, but he would not be budged. "This would all have been avoided if you had just let me up."

"What fun would that be?" he replied half-sarcastically, but he hoped she didn't hear the rumble in his voice, as he was trying not to hear the breathless quality that had reached hers. "But that doesn't mean you have to play dirty."

"I'm wrestling with a turian on the floor. Wouldn't the first thing I do have to be getting rid of all that heavy armor?"

"Doesn't make it any more fair." He ran his gloved talons down her arms and back, quickly working the seals on her own armor. Moments later, they were both well stripped except for their bodysuits, and even those were getting pulled and ruffled in the activity.

Shepard ended up on top again, and Garrus bucked at her, more playful an action than their free-form wrestling to that point. Then he reached and pulled her down to him as she rhythmically slid her hips over where she was straddled, and he nuzzled into her neck, then nipped up to her ear.

"If you don't tell me now where you've been, I'll _make_ you tell me," he growled, low and hot. He felt her reaction, clutching more at him and leaning into his caresses.

"I'll take that challenge."

Garrus grinned. "That's my Shepard."

With no further preamble, he removed his gloves with help of his teeth and set to work making ribbons out of her bodysuit. This elicited interesting sounds from her, and as he sampled more of the salty, mineral-like savoriness of her flesh, he could feel her own many, many fingers making short work of what he had left to separate them. It didn't take long to find softness against his quivering plates.

"Why pretend to be an asari?" he said as his claws gripped hard at her rear. Her hands flew to his fringe and he had to hold back another groan.

"What—what better way for the first human Spectre to hide?"

"And what should a Spectre hide from?" He dipped his head and caught the skin of her smooth neck in his teeth again.

"Nngh, what could I do? The council already sent me out to against 'geth' instead of addressing the problem before."

"But, a merc? There had to be other ways. Ways I wouldn't have... Spirits, Shepard, I tried to _kill_ you."

One of those many-fingered hands found their way to his shifting lower plates, and just their presence brought more than enough encouragement. "Like you could have... Ohhh, so _there_ it is. Can't compare to a human's."

"Want to try?"

"_Hell_ yes, are you kidding?"

"Kidding? Why would I do a thing like that?" He felt her grind and slip, wet and soft, and his talons gripped her hips in preparation to have her take every inch of him. She made another of those cooing, pure tones, enrouraging her along with that scent, that taste...

"_Archangel, do you copy?"_

Garrus groaned and shook his helmetted head before going back into action. Just where did his mind wander off to in the middle of an Eclipse raid? Well, leave it to _Lantar Sidonis_ to snap him out of a perfectly good daydream.

* * *

><p>"So, you <em>did<em> fantasize about Shepard."

Garrus looked over Tali and wondered, not for the first time, if she had the quarian equivalent of a smirk underneath that helmet. "Isn't it a little rude to eavesdrop into other people's conversations?"

"I don't think it counts when the conversation is happening less than four meters away and neither party is making any effort to keep it to themselves." She crossed her arms. "I can't really say that I'm surprised, though. The only one that would have fantasized any more than you would be Liara, and she went to get Shepard's body to prove it." It took a moment for her words to catch up to her, for which she ducked her helmet into her hands. "Keelah! I didn't mean it like that!"

"Thanks. That's _exactly_ the mental image I needed. Care to throw in some scale-itch to make it truly terrifying?"

"Stop it! If you're going to be such a _bosh'tet_ about it, I wont ask. But, my point still stands, I hope you know."

Garrus took a sour look. "Yeah, but it isn't like that. It just seems more natural to me for Shepard to be alive than dead, and, apparently, just enough people agreed."

"You're really going to stand there and tell me you don't think about joining Shepard in the loft?"

"That much has honestly never crossed my mind."

"Really. Even though you always seem to have 'Fire in the Courtyard' playing whenever Shepard pops out behind enemy lines. _Which is a lot_. And you seemed to find a lot of nice times to play it before she was alive... and times to watch a certain scene from that same movie..."

"You... _you hacked into my visor? _What the hell, Tali!"

"Are you going to yell at me about that, too, when it was _you_ that didn't tie up any issues with software security? Especially since you of all people should know better. It was just sloppy, Garrus."

He exhaled angrily through his small nostrils. "I suppose you'd know all about breaches from something that should be air-tight, huh?"

"Is that a racial slur? I thought those two years taught you better?"

"Racial slur? Oh, no... I meant _another_ definition for 'air-tight'."

"Another definiti—_KEELAH! You bosh'tet!_"


	4. Citadel

Disclaimer: Chapter 1.

Took me longer than I expected to get this one out. I'm going to go ahead and blame video games (hey, it's video games that got me here, anyway). I'm very, very flattered by all the readers and reviewers! It makes me feel a lot more pride than is probably healthy for someone like me to see so many people praise and enjoy my writing. You all are awesome.

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><p>Garrus came down from his set-up feeling out of sorts. His armor and sniper rifle seemed lighter, but instead of this applying to him as a measure of relief, he felt disoriented. He was afraid to move his arms too far, to sweep his rifle too much as he returned it to sling against his back. His limbs felt too free, and every motion seemed exaggerated to him as a result.<p>

But, this weight being gone... it's a good thing, right? Lantar Sidonis is dead. Paid for his crimes of killing the ten good men who trusted him. Garrus hadn't seen it coming, but like a true turian, he fixed his mistake. It was behind him.

And he had no clue what to do next.

He walked to Shepard, who had earlier blindsided him with a baffling question. Her, of all people, who easily encouraged him to take the shot on Dr. Saleon, who did what she had to do in every mission, even if it meant casualties, actually turned to him and asked, "Are you sure?" It shocked him, but she easily dropped whatever it was she was unsure about and agreed. Just like he knew Shepard would, because she always gets the job done.

Or... Maybe, somehow, he expected her to do something else. She paused a long moment in front of his scope. No, thinking like this will just run his brain into circles. He needs to get back to the _Normandy_. Wash his facial plates with some cold water and menthol astringent paste, then have a good, long sleep.

Shepard had agreed to returning, and they were walking towards a taxi, but something seemed to take her interest and she stopped in her tracks. "Commander?" Thane called to her, and she glanced to him, back to whatever she was looking at, then turned to her team again.

"You two return to the Normandy without me. I'm going to go check up on something while I'm here."

"Of course," Thane had answered. Garrus merely gave a nod.

"Dismissed." With that, she pulled out her omni-tool display and marched off the way Shepard always seems to when she's in her armor. He watched after her until Thane croaked up again.

"Garrus? Are you coming?"

"You go on without me. I'll catch up."

"Very well."

Garrus wasn't entirely sure where the sudden curiosity came from, but he was glad that Thane didn't question it and went along with his own business. It left Garrus to investigate where Shepard was so interested in going without someone hanging over his shoulder, something a number of the other crewmembers would have done. He first traced down to where Shepard had her eyes drawn and distracted. He wasn't terribly surprised to see a holo-advertisement in direct line.

But he was a little surprised to see the advertisement was for _Citadel_, the film.

Spirits, he had _heard_ about this movie being made, and it was joked on more than once that if the Great Culture War lasted until this vid's release, he would be forced to endure it. And by "joked" he meant "threatened". But actually seeing clips of it in a random trailer showcased as a holographic tube... that was different. And more than a little scary. The acting didn't exactly look stellar. He wouldn't possibly be in it, thankfully; even if they casted for parts for those who hadn't died, there was no way his name would make it in there without a lot of hell being raised by his family.

All that considered, it sure looked like Shepard went off alone to go see the flick. Garrus groaned and even felt his shoulders slump in exasperation as he pulled up his own omni-tool to find the nearest showing. He really _didn't_ want to see that stupid movie.

* * *

><p>The asari casted for specific parts were the most accurate to their portrayal, not uncommon since most film productions have an asari bias. But Saren's part was... eh, then again, it might be better that Screen Saren was different from the real thing. Ashley Williams, being dead, was portrayed with her own name, but the resemblance ended there. Really, it was bizarre watching another Williams on screen praise progressiveness towards alien cooperation and claim to be the same stubborn Alliance woman who didn't seem sure if she should glower at her alien teammates or not.<p>

The woman who was casted for Shepard was someone he recognized in another film one of his men brought in. In that, she played a sassy-but-sensitive independent woman who just needed a little buff and polish. Her portrayal of Shepard's only difference from was a gravelly voice and N7 armor. And the movements during combat scenes... they were just all wrong. This woman obviously had no military training before, completely lacking in fluidity and holding her Predator like a little Raikou (which is a damn fine way to fracture your wrist). And those things weren't even what he hated the most about this Shepard.

This Shepard did almost everything alone, and that included most battles. This might have been fine for making more suspenseful scenes, but, even with a different Shepard, it grated on Garrus. Shepard always needed someone fighting with her, damnit. Her tactical style demanded it. Hell, he had enough of an issue accepting this new crew of teammates as people to guard her back when he wasn't on team. But... the thought of her fighting without back-up?

Spirits, this movie was terrible. Why should he even bother watching it?

"_Hey, Garrus... They just announced who they were casting as Commander Shepard for the Citadel movie."_

"_Uh huh."_

"_She was in that film that... Are you listening?"_

"_I'm trying to clean up this rifle."_

"_That doesn't require your ears."_

"_And how I regret that right now."_

"_Aww, what? You don't want to talk about the movie? But I'll be taking the _whole team _to see it. My treat."_

"_What the hell, Sidonis? Fine, my former commander's death bothers me. What did I ever do to you that you have to be such an ass about this?"_

"_It's just funny to see our very own Archangel get choked up on something. That you're just a mere mortal like the rest of us. And the one thing that seems to do it every time is—"_

"Garrus?"

He blinked and looked up at her from where he was focused on the rolling credits. She was smiling one of those mysterious smiles that she normally didn't sport around crew and teammates, and that made him look that much more exposed than he already did. He shivered with a weird feeling inside his armor. Unable to find better words at the moment, he gave a nod and stood. "Shepard."

"Did you follow me into here?"

"Sort of. I figured out where you were going and went after you."

A brow raised, and the smile didn't so much disappear as fade into the movements of her lips. "I was just curious about what kind of movie this would make. Not... exactly accurate, was it?"

"I'd say you're famous, now, but the event they based this film on was what made your name in the galaxy." He felt himself ease and they started to walk out.

"You're lucky you weren't in it. Unless you were one of those five or six turians in the crew." She shook her head. "I think their writer didn't know what they meant about the _Normandy_ being a joint project for the Alliance and the Hierarchy. Hell, remember how the brass tried to jump down my throat for having _any_ aliens on board, especially 'turians'?"

"What can I say? Our races have too much in common to ever get along."

He saw her nod as the doors to the theater slid to let them pass. The bright artificial light of the Citadel rained down on them, making him squint as they made their way towards a transit station again.

Her hand press into the softer joint of the elbow in his armor, though it wasn't the hard yank he associated with pulling one another into cover or to get attention. "So, why did you follow me in here?"

He looked down at it, seeing her still just as armored as he, and up to her face. She had one of those more blank expressions he associated with her during her inquiries, as if she was reserving judgement to react until she heard the facts she needed. "Well, I, ah..." What should he say? It's not like she was going to get into any fights, and he didn't want anything to do with seeing this stupid film, which turned out to be every bit as bad as he knew it was going to be.

Sidonis was going to bring out the whole team to see it. That was impossible now, but Garrus still watched it. Without Sidonis, without his men, as was the plan all too short a time ago, and even if that much could have happened, Shepard was alive. The intended impact was gone, right? Except, somehow, it still gnawed on him. Shepard was dead, when the movie was made. She died alone, her back unguarded from the Collectors and, literally, from the vacuum of space itself. He placed his gauntleted hand over hers, trying to chase away images of the real Shepard his head easily superimposed in those lonely battle scenes. "I told you I'd always have your back, Shepard."

"Hmm." There was a different smile he saw a flash of, but he didn't get much more than a glance of it before she bowed her head, then pulled her hand away to give him a good-hearted slap on the back. "Let's get back to the ship. You're probably tired after a day like this."

He nodded. "You're right." And not another word needed to be said.

* * *

><p>The next day cycle started with Garrus feeling refreshed and with a clear enough head to find some redundancies in the Thanix's targeting systems, effectively cutting out hours from his daily calibrations made necessary by the instability of the iron-unranium-tungsten alloy suspended by the zero core's electromagnetic field. It turns out that the previous weapon he upgraded upon already had very fine program of its own for drawing a proper amount of energy from the zero core, and it could easily have different functions plugged in the calculations, which meant the auxiliary program he slaved over in addition to the base systems was largely superfluous. Now, his biggest concern would be optimizing firing algorithms, which was still something of busy work, but it cleared his head easy enough.<p>

Unfortunately, that had a downside; now that being left behind while Shepard took two other teammates with her ground-side was no longer a change to get ahead of his work, that meant half of his day was spent on trying to find something to do with himself if he wasn't brought along. So, when he heard the announcement that they were going back towards Omega, he'd already decided to insist on Shepard to bring him with her the next chance he got to talk to her. The last thing he wanted was to fidget around on a human ship with fidgeting humans. At least on the first Normandy he could avoid the humans by repairing the Mako.

He never got to, because, although Shepard did come by the Main Battery herself to talk, their conversation veered _way_ off from where he expected it to... a completely _different_ reason to be nervous than their suicide mission. When she left, wearing a sly simper, he returned to his console with all thoughts of what he'd originally intended to talk about with her blanked from his mind. Shepard wanted him, or at the very least wanted to have a little fun with him. He stared without direction at the holographic display before him and tried not to think of how she purposefully chased him in his own space away from this very console leaned herself against the cool metal surface now below his gloved fingers.

Shepard and him.

A human and a turian.

The first thing coming to his mind as a course of action was to look up how much porn was on the extranet for such a pairing, which was supposed to be an easy out in how common it was before he realized what he just typed out and nearly smacked himself for what he was catching himself doing. His self-reprimand didn't last long before the results came up, which, ah, were a lot.

Like, _a lot_ a lot.

Just to make sure he was interpreting it right, he plugged in a couple different alien pairings, and it actually was one of the more popular ones (that didn't include the asari). Especially for male turians and female humans, which was pretty baffling how damn convenient that was. Wait, no, that's not convenient at all. Porn is just porn; there's no realism in it and it usually caters to one audience, which is usually male. So these were either produced for turian males who like the idea of dominating human women, or human males who had a kink for seeing their women being dominated by aliens. It was going to disregard any chiralty issues, any comfortable or pleasurable positions for either race, and showed "techniques" that would normally injure someone of either race.

Knowing all that didn't stop him from clicking a link or two.

Ah, well. Okay, so he certainly isn't interested in cross-species intercourse for the sake of cross-species intercourse, and he gained that much from the first couple of vids. But, from the look of things, the act itself was pretty straight forward. And, hmm, maybe _this_ vid isn't so bad. Can't help but wonder if Shepard would back into his thrusts like that...

Okay, so the act itself doesn't seem to have much variation between the races, so there's that. But he'll still have to do some research. And do some preparation. Like condoms. He might need special ones; the kind he tended to use had spermicide meant for turians, so a normal one could do as much damage to Shepard as going bare. There had to be at least one pharmacy in the Citadel that carries them.

Garrus started typing in the search engine, though two misfortunes happened: first, he hadn't cleared his previous search inquiry, and second, his search settings had the results coming up for the inquiry before it was finished being typed. The result was a query for "turian human porn citadel" with the top hitting return a thumbnail for another porno-vid showcasing a human woman that looked very much like the actress in the film he saw not long ago with three turian men flanking her, not a one wearing a stitch of clothing. _"Slutadel—Scene 12 of 23—Crew Gangbang"._

He slammed his hand down onto the console to close the offending window, using such force that the smooth surface below the display gained hairline cracks. He quickly cleared the history and shut everything except what was purely work-related off.. Spirits, he'd never hated the nature of the Extranet as much as he did right at this moment.


	5. Ride Clear of Diablo

Disclaimer: Chapter one, pl0x. There's also a few lines of dialogue from "To Hell and Back", an Audie Murphy movie based on his autobiography. As a warning, this chapter waltzes away from comedy.

This will probably be the last one, so I'm going to list it as "complete" again after I post this chapter, (though I've already made a reputation of reopening fics, haven't I?). Thank you all for reading! I really enjoyed your responses. Maybe I'll write something else after this (moooost likely another Garrus/F!Shepard story).

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><p>They went to hell and back together, and it still wasn't enough.<p>

Two hours together until they faced the Reapers found Garrus as a bundle of nerves and left him with something to distract himself from the ache of being slammed into platform after platform and the nagging shoots of pain from a bullet-wound freshly treated with medi-gel. Thinking of something else between flying bullets…. It was an old metal training turians kept even today, letting your eyes glaze over for just long enough to keep sharp, and could offset battle fatigue and even mild cases of shock. Stims and such tended to outdo the results nowadays, but those weren't always available.

Mental recaps of Shepard's scent as he pulled her legs up to hook over his shoulders, the way her flesh glistened and moved with that little bounce as they met, and her smile as she traced over his scar where his clan markings should be when they lay together were not only at the ready, but eager to show up. Using thoughts of your mate was not only a common method of the training, but it was one that was culturally encouraged as a way to strengthen bonds even while a couple was separated during long campaigns. But Shepard… wasn't exactly his mate. Sex was the only thing they really discussed and prepared for, and though he _definitely_ would love to continue the relationship and felt his insistence on preparation spoke volumes to that, he couldn't just assume she'd feel the same way. So, there was always a question with the brief dreams that was as of yet unanswered.

When she called him up to her cabin, he tried to play it cool, though he was a nervous wreck inside again. He wore is civvies again and tried to recline in a confident way on the couch when she offered him a seat, one arm propped atop the back of it in invitation. But Shepard, being Shepard, ignored his invitation as it were and instead perched herself upon his lap like she belonged there.

It made him laugh as all that apprehension just broke away with the move. "I guess I should have expected that." His arms went around her as easily as hers curled over his shoulders, and he affectionately bumped his forehead to hers as she giggled.

"You didn't think I was going to let us end with a one-night stand, did you?"

Garrus smiled, and instead of answering directly, opted to nuzzle her neck and rumble. "You should know by now I jump on any chance to… hmm… _show off _to you."

It made her laugh again, and he felt his heart patter happily. He hid his face into her hair and neck and breathed in her scent. Her fingers crept up and traced languidly on his fringe. This was something he could definitely get used to.

"Glad to hear it. I was afraid the night might have made you decide that maybe a human isn't really your thing."

He pulled back and looked at her, mystified. "Are you kidding? Spirits, Shepard, after we got the awkward part out of the way, I couldn't get enough of you. I thought that was obvious."

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss just above his brow. The sensation of her soft lips there felt far more intimate than he expected it to, and he ducked down his head again to nibble on her neck. She hummed in approval, but she surprised him by saying, "You sure you don't want to talk a little first before I drag you into my bed again?"

"Talk?" He said, not bothering to pull back and letting his voice get muffled by her soft flesh. He felt her chest shake again with laughter.

"That's right. I think maybe you might've been aiming for a slower seduction last night, but we didn't exactly have the time. And, to be honest, I've just been kind of assuming that you wanted to be more than just friends with benefits." She trailed her fingers over his fringe again in a light sweep, but they dropped off at the end of her words. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I've had the distinct feeling _you're_ afraid of ruining our friendship."

"You're not pushing me anywhere I don't want to be pushed, Shepard."

"I know that," she said, in a voice that sounded as humored as it did annoyed, and he wondered if the humor was meant to cover it up, "But that doesn't mean that you're willing to put up with my bullshit. And trust me, there's a lot of bullshit. I'm not a drama queen that festers on old, dried up wounds for her whole life and blows things out of proportion, but that doesn't mean that I'm easy to live with."

"Is that an invitation for me to move in?"

"It might be. What would you say if it was?"

"I'd say we should test out the bed again together. Right now. You know, just to make sure it can take it."

"Hmm. Did I ever tell you that I love your ideas?"

* * *

><p>They ended up having a longer conversation afterwards as they lay together, and decided that, for now, it was best not to share living space. Not because they feared disrupting the crew, or because the bed really <em>couldn't<em> hold up during the test (it could), but they were still on a mission. Neither could guarantee they'd be able to focus on their duties if their living quarters held such a distraction like a half-naked new lover, and they didn't exactly have the same shifts, and Shepard could only schedule so much. If Tali did something different down in engineering, it could mean Garrus taking weird hours to recalibrate the cannon, or it could mean Shepard needing to put in time mining to build the parts.

Still, Shepard called up Garrus pretty often, and there was a lot of open eagerness to explore a new relationship. More than once, Garrus ended up sleeping in her bed rather than leaving afterwards or using her shower. He'd still have to run down to his locker to get his armor and guns if something happened but, damnit, they were in deep space, weren't they? Would it really be so terrible to have a couple floors between him and his duties, just for an hour or so?

Garrus had quickly gained a habit of catching Shepard from whatever she was doing in her room (which ranged from typing on the terminal or cleaning her armor) with his long reach and pulling her back into bed with him. The gesture was usually welcomed, so he was a little surprised when he took hold of her (she had turned still suddenly when she walked in, so she was easy to catch) and she stiffened in his grasp. He was about to pretend to be offended when he saw her sweating, her face gaunt.

"Shepard." She didn't respond immediately. "Shepard, are you alright?"

She blinked and looked up at him, and he could see how her lips were pressed into a fine line. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure? You don't look well."

"I'm just a bit nauseous." She pulled away from him, and he felt his heart drop with the loss of contact.

He drew a breath and sucked it up. "Did Gardner give you something a little off again?"

"I'm just a little tired, Garrus. It's nothing to worry about." She was moving over towards her shower before she spared him a glance. His emotions must have been all written out plain to see on his face, because she sighed and turned towards him again, rubbing her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't just push you away like that."

"You don't have to apologize for anything."

"No, look…" She turned her head this way and that before opting to sit on her couch and invite him beside her. He did so, choosing to sit as close as possible but keep his hands to herself. She looked at him, sweat still pouring, and she wiped her brow.

"I'm just… This is sort of what I mean by being difficult to live with. You know, besides being a generally awful person."

Garrus smiled in an attempt to reassure her. "Matter of opinion, and most of the people who'd have that opinion don't tend to be around for very long."

It made her chuckle a bit, so he was glad for that, at least. "This is just something that I deal with. I'm fine. Really. It's nothing like Kaidan's headaches or Tali's immune system. I just have a little Pee-Tee-Es-Dee and I get an episode now and then." She swallowed and nodded. "I just walk out of the room for a bit, and it never happens while I'm under fire."

Garrus had thought that his translator had glitched for a moment, but the software had run the definition easily unto his visor for the untranslated word:

_Short for "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder". A psychological disorder in humans caused by being put in extreme, often helpless circumstances. Most common among war veterans. Similar to "General's Shakes"._

Oh. _General's shakes_. That turian disorder was named because it was most common among generals and other military lifers in the Hierarchy. Most were functional, but a few got so bad they were retired or put in reserves. He wasn't sure what to say, so he took her hand and cautiously moved to nuzzle her, hoping she wouldn't be offended.

She leaned into him and hummed gratefully.

* * *

><p>Garrus had gone to Mordin about turianhuman mating, and that worked better than he thought. The information allowed him to avoid researching through the extranet (though he did kick himself for never watching any human romances to learn how to _woo_ her). But Mordin didn't seem to be the proper person to ask about this issue.

Dr. Chakwas, the best choice since she had personally worked with the commander before, nearly bit his head off when he asked about Shepard's PTSD. Apparently, more than a few reporters came to her while the commander was dead, trying to eke out a story angle that her "mental instability" might have created the visions from the beacon and the "myth" of the Reapers. They had offended her farther than on a personal level; Shepard's medical files, dead celebrity or not, were not for public review. When Garrus explained that Shepard herself had told him, and he was just looking for information to help her out, Chakwas de-bristled.

"I'm sorry, Garrus. It's a touchy issue."

"I can understand."

She dropped her defensive stance and sat. "If the commander wants to tell you the touchier times of her past, that's her business." She swung back towards her terminal in her chair and pulled up some windows. "I can tell you, though, it has never interfered with a mission, and we keep track of that. If Shepard was going to make up visions about Reapers, we would have at least put into rehabilitation long before she became a Spectre."

"I get that, but how can I help her when she's having an episode… when we're not in battle, I mean? Hell, I'm sure it's only gotten worse after her death, right?"

"Actually, it's the opposite." Some more windows popped up, these showing schematics of Cerberus-grade implants. "Though her death was definitely traumatic, being rebuilt by Cerberus was the best thing that ever happened against her PTSD." She gestured to some of the diagrams. "The condition causes a response of auto-immune complications in human women. Before she died, she was showing signs of early onset arthritis and had some terrible allergies. Cerberus had to dampen her immune response when adding the cybernetics as to not let the implants become rejected by her body… a scenario that would be a lot more dangerous than a stuffy nose.

"Now, since she has no more aches and pains from being completely rebuilt, there are fewer episodes as joint pain was one of her triggers. That, by the way, is one of the reasons she never has an episode during a mission; the adrenaline seems to offset it for her. She's essentially too busy to have an episode."

Garrus blinked and stood back a bit, as if considering. "Sounds like I should thank Cerberus for even making it easier for us to get together."

"Hmm? Oh, the chirality response." She nodded. "I'll say that this unexpected boon helped her even more than you think; your relationship with Shepard has been good for her."

"You think so?"

"You encourage her to return to her room and relax, instead of running from task to task as her marine training forces her to do. And you keep her occupied so she's not alone. That's doing wonders for her, Garrus. You don't have to worry about having to help her any more than that."

"I… Thank you, doctor."

* * *

><p>When Garrus learned how Jack and Grunt had let themselves get separated from Shepard on Aite, he had a hard time keeping his temper. So, when Shepard had disappeared to do some sort of mission alone, he could hardly talk, fearing that he'd snap at the people around them.<p>

Miranda was actually less restrictive. She rounded on Joker, since he was the one that brought the ship to wherever Shepard had to go. His furry jaw remained stony and resolute in his refusal to give her the answers that she was demanding.

"Are you saying that the commander ordered you to not inform me of her actions?" Her voice thrummed with anger even as it was curt.

"I'm saying it's a _need-to-know_ basis situation, and you _don't need to know_."

The human woman bristled with outrage. "_I_ am the _executive commander_ of this vessel, and as the commanding officer is away, _I have the deck_. So, if I say I need to know, I need to know."

"You might have command of the ship, _Miss Friday_, but you don't have clearance above the commander, even if she isn't here."

"Miranda isn't going to get it out of him," Jacob muttered beside Garrus.

"But why keep it a secret?"He felt his irritability rising in him and gestured angrily even as Joker and Miranda argued. "What is there to gain for Shepard to order him to keep him quiet?"

"My guess? This is Alliance-related. He and Shepard may have left, but a marine is a marine. 'Semper fi' doesn't die easy for us. Miranda's not going to understand since she's always been in Cerberus, but I'm surprised you don't get it, Garrus."

"A conflict of interest like that didn't really come to mind."

"EDI," she commanded, turning towards blue sphere that blinked into existence on summon, "Tell me everything you know about where the commander has gone and why we're in the Bahak system."

"Miranda," Jacob moaned, "You should just let it go. The commander—"

"_Commander Shepard left to perform a solo operation by request of Admiral Steven Hackett on Aratoht approximately ten hours and sixteen minutes ago, Operator Lawson."_ The lids fluttered with the AI's words.

"EDI!" Joker hissed.

"_I am sorry, Jeff."_

Miranda pressed further. "What sort of operation would it be that she's still away?"

"_The commander was requested to perform rescue mission requiring the infiltration of a prison and the recovery personnel. It is a deep cover operation, so correspondence was expected to be little."_

"Why would she agree to this? And isn't ten hours extreme?"

"Look, I don't expect you to understand, but there's a damn good reason for all this," Joker growled, "And I haven't left the helm since Shepard left. Trust me, I'm not falling asleep at the wheel here."

"_Jeff, maybe it would assuage Operative Lawson's fears if we told—"_

"EDI, please! Just... just please!" He rubbed a spot between his brow and hat. "Look, Shepard can take care of herself, and we can take care of the ship until she gets back. There's nothing we can do at this point except wait for her to call for a pick-up, so just sit tight and we'll handle it, okay?"

Miranda frowned and crossed her arms, but relented.

* * *

><p>Shepard's cabin didn't really give Garrus any solace like he hoped. Her scent might be everywhere in the cabin, but so was his. It was their combined scents that permeated the room, and it was two days stale. He sat alone at the end of her bed, unable to breathe easy but unwilling to get up and leave. Where would he go, anyway? He'd just be wasting his time in the Main Battery. He couldn't focus, and he couldn't relax.<p>

His attempt at trying to wait came to watching some of the vids over that he'd intended to show Solana. She'd expressed interest in some of their chats with the things that his team was forcing him to watch (that she could sometimes see in the background of vid-chats when she called him unexpectedly on Omega), and he was trying to review some to recommend.

He still had the self-imposed ban on Butler's romances; if those things were to be believed, humans think that stalking behavior is not only to be encouraged, but human women find it romantic (what his years policing the Citadel wards taught him: they don't). That still left a lot to sift through to keep from somehow accidentally rubbing someone in the family the wrong way during such a sensitive time, and he thought that, maybe, he could kill two birds with one stone by occupying his mind with something that he had to get around to doing.

It wasn't really working. He still had trouble concentrating, or the content would somehow settle sourly in his stomach, making it feel as though the stale scent of the room was a tangible miasma.

"_Baker Three! Baker Three! Baker Three, this is Baker Six!"_

"_Baker Three, Corporal Murphy speaking!"_

"_Isn't Manning down there now, Murphy?"_

"_Lieutenant Manning's been hit pretty bad, sir, and Sergeant Klasky's dead."_

"_You'll have to take charge of the platoon."_

"_We're still taking a pretty bad pounding, sir! Shall we pull back?"_

"_Stay where you are. Increase your fire, if possible. The seventh is about ready to cross."_

Garrus groaned and rubbed his facial plates as the protagonist screamed an order and ran into the purveying explosions of shells and other ancient military armaments. With a wave of his omni-tool, the vid was shut off, and he groaned to stand, considering taking use of Shepard's shower. Maybe he'll go to his station again and just stand ready after he cleaned up a little. The previous times he'd attempted that didn't work out, but, hey, fifth time's the charm.

He must've been sitting for a while, or maybe his was just tired, but he stumbled over a set of armor Shepard was tinkering with before she left and spun down and over, his face hitting straight into the railing for the shallow steps. He quickly caught himself on the metal rail and leaned over it, screaming various obscenities with one hand checking to see if anything broke. He was fine except for some tenderness he could already feel underneath his plates. It was going to swell up into a mighty bruise later.

A few more curses and a shower later, Garrus strolled out onto Deck Three, trying his best to appear tall and steady as to not attract any attention that he was most certainly not in the mood to entertain. It didn't work. Yeoman Chambers happened to be strolling out of the medical bay, and she stopped full-on at the sight of him. "Garrus! Are you okay?"

He drew his mandibles tight and tried not to give away that he was aggravated. "There's nothing to worry about with me. I'm just going to the Main Battery to report for duty."

"Are you sure you should?" Her brows knit up and she frowned. "You don't look well."

"It's just a swollen plate. I tripped over a bodybag upstairs and hit my head."

"You tripped over what?"

Garrus blinked as if someone shook him awake. "Wait, I meant I tripped over some armor. What did I say?"

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant, anyway. But you're shaking like a leaf. Are you sure you don't want to see Dr. Chakwas?"

"Shaking?" He looked down to his hands and saw they were moving with a continuous tremor. _Oh._ He clenched them both twice into a fist like he would before setting up his rifle. The shaking stopped, and he straightened up, as if to say the problem was solved.

Kelly looked like she would argue, but more commotion came from the medical bay. Chakwas burst out and marched towards the elevator with purpose, Legion following after her with his plates fluttering in a way that made him look curious to the situation. Kelly called after her. "What's going on, Doctor?"

"The commander's back."

"What?" Garrus spun on her and followed, soon finding himself canned in with two human women and a geth. "When?"

"Just now. I don't know what happened, but I'm going to get to Shepard before she has the chance to do anything."

The elevator seemed to be an agonizing crawl and Garrus was already climbing the walls. As soon as they opened to the CIC, the bodies poured out, and they found themselves flanking Shepard, who was watching the galaxy map.

A light flickered and disappeared in the map.

When she turned and walked towards them, Garrus ran up to her side. "Shepard, what the hell happened? Where were you?"

"Buying us time from the Reapers," she said, her voice lower and smokier than usual, "Let's just hope the price was worth it. That was three-hundred-thousand batarians I just killed to do it."

"Three-hundred-thousand… What do you mean?"

"Why the blazes did it take you two days giving us any contact!" Chakwas interrupted.

"Dr. Kenson had me sedated against my will. By the time I came out of it, it was already too late to provide any warning." She began to work the seals on her armor. "I know you'll have me go to the med bay, anyway, so I'll fill you in there. I'll have to make a report for Hackett, anyway." She moved to go into the elevator, but Garrus caught her by her shoulder.

"Shepard…"

She looked at him for a long moment, even going to far as stopping where she was removing her gloves. "I'm okay, Garrus. But I'd… appreciate it if I could talk to you when Chakwas clears me. Think you can clear up your calibration schedule?"

He considered her a moment, taking in the stalwart look on her face, the distressed look in her eye, and he nodded. "I'll be in your quarters when you're done."

She smiled a very honest, grateful smile even as she fussed with her gauntlets, and turned to walk with Chakwas.


End file.
